Memoirs of a Madman
Some will call me evil, a madman, a villain… and from the perspective of their small-minded world, they will be correct in their assumptions. I have no love for man, or compassion or sympathy. Between two thousand men there is but a single thinking one among them- no, just a single person with something resembling sentient thought. For the entire world, the truth is an elusive mystery, hidden and unexplored… when it is not being denied by those who can comprehend it. Persecute me, insult me, despise me, but I shall reveal these truths to you in return. I am no monster. I am the entire human race compacted together. I have found that there is no ingredient of the race which I do not possess in either a small way or a large way. The difference between us is that I have chosen to reject the absurdity of moral sensitivity and have embraced my own potential. I have chosen to rise above the murk of human indecisiveness, of fear and doubt, and to reach higher. To ascend to that empty throne… but forgive me. I am getting ahead of myself. My tale is a long one, and so I shall begin it where most stories start; at the beginning. I was born on November 30th, 1835, in the city of Edo (now known as Tokyo). That night was one of occasion and wonder, for a celestial body streaked across the skies of the earth like a lance of light. Haley’s comet (as it is now called in the west) appeared, and just as rapidly vanished. My parents were a superstitious sort, being simple folk, and took this fantastic event as a good omen. My mother was a dyer, and named me after her favorite color (which means indigo). My father was a tailor, and he had a practical personality. Both of my parents loved me dearly, and saw to my every want and desire, within their limited means. My young mind drew in the world around me, and by the age of nine my vast intellect became more than either of my parents could compete with. By my mother's insistence, I was apprenticed to a scribe under a local lord, and from him I learned of characters, mathematics, and poetry. From the local lord, I learned discretion. Being young and ignorant of the decorum of nobility, I was quick to speak my mind and to express my ideas. For my naivety, I received many beatings and punishments, until I learned to keep my tongue. I grew to despise the lord, and the rest of the nobility, for their casual disrespect of the common man, just as I grew to love poetry and intellectualism for their ability to elevate him. I think it was probably the mystery of the comet at my birth that first instilled upon me a sense of wonder about the universe. Being the apprentice to a scribe gave me access to many documents (most of which were worthless, simply pertaining to records of ancestry or writs of commendation from various authorities through history). My mentor's personal library was of great interest to me. He had amassed a vast collection of works, some of western origin, and upon his death it fell to me to receive the collection and the responsibilities of being a scribe. I devoured them, one tome after another, voraciously and ceaselessly. Kijiki, The Tale of Heike, Oku no Hosomichi, the Wealth of Nations, Common Sense, and so many others... When I came across a language I did not understand, I poured my efforts into mastering the language and its dialects. My interests expanded yet further to encompass astronomy, natural philosophy, and even alchemy and the occult. While I was still young, and impressionable, I fell in love with a servant of my lord. Her name was Noa. Her eyes were peaceful, but very sad... and on the rare occasions that she did smile, the world seemed brighter for it. My heart yearned for her, for her smile... but it was not to be (or so I believed). She was a concubine of my lord, and he jealously guarded her from other men. Nonetheless, I was compelled to seek her. In secret places, in dark and hidden places, free from the prying and judging eyes of society, the flower of our love's passion bloomed. Fortune smiled upon our love when, in 1867, the child prince Mutsuhito ascended to emperor of Japan. His rule brought forth an age of enlightenment for our country, as he formed representative assemblies to rule it with justice. One of his first great acts, and one that proved the be the salvation of my relationship with Nao, was that the capital of Japan was moved to Edo from Kyoto, and our city was rechristened "Tokyo". The daimyo of Edo were forced to surrender their lands, and by extension, their authority. Nao and I were free to pursue our happiness and to begin a new life together as a loving family. The years that followed were an unsteady, unpredicactable time, but we were happy. I managed to find work operating and servicing a printing press for a western company, and although the pay was poor, it was a steady job, and it did have benefits. So long as I paid for the supplies, I was given free reign to print my own writings upon it- I took advantage of this perk liberally. My printings (mostly collections of short stories of a fantastic nature) became popular among the working-class of Tokyo. The profits all went to supporting my growing family. Noa gave birth to a healthy and rambunctious daughter, and I can say with certainty, that I never felt prouder than the first moment I held Airi in my arms. She was my greatest accomplishment. Airi surpassed my expectations in every way. She was kind and polite, with a sharp mind that was decades ahead of her peers, and she was utterly adorable. Noa and I loved her unconditionally, and I think that this was the only time in my life that I felt true happiness. Reading to her as she woddled on my lap by candlelight, feeding her, and just holding her against me. I remember the moment it all changed, so clearly... It was a hot, humid summer evening. The moon was in full bloom, and its pale radiance cast a dim light through the occasional cloud. To the west, the amber remnants of the sun were fading. Noa and I were seated on the porch of our home, and Airi was playing in the grasses of our front lawn. At six, she was full of curiousities, and her clumsy legs carried her gleefilled expression to us, her hands cupped around something. Airi held out her gift to us, and opened her hands. Inside rested a tiny insect, a firefly, whose body flaired with light in the rythm of my daughter's heartbeat. I reached out tentavily to my daughter's hand, my finger barely brushing that momentary light... and my daughter began coughing violently. The firefly left her outstretched hands and ascended into the heavens, and my wife and I grabbed our daughter in alarm.